


Of Five-Hundred and Eighty Two Years

by nervoussurfer



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms
Genre: Childhood Friends, Letters, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervoussurfer/pseuds/nervoussurfer
Summary: Laerlorra needs advice, but more importantly she needs friends.(WHAT'S UP this is PC-backstory garbage, a letter from the mother of my PC to a friend of hers explaining the plot. This is intended to be read by my DM.)





	Of Five-Hundred and Eighty Two Years

My Dearest Thiawen,  
How many centuries has it been since we spoke, my old friend? It seems we have not properly exchanged our lives since we both graduated the Foundling Academy. Back then your name was still Tian, though I find your grown name to be gorgeous, my dear. I remember, the memory comes to me like a warm beam of sun filtering through the tree leaves, how we would run to the river together after studies and practice our new spells on the banks. Do you remember that time that Fynn; I apologize, I don't for the life of me recall his grown name, but once he followed us down and almost got pulled in to the river with the way you were casting your new Control Water spell. I cherish and I miss those old schoolchild days, how simple they were. We didn't think it, but those difficult exams would be the least of our worries.

Yes, we have both changed quite a bit since those youthful days. I miss the landscapes of my home in Evermeet dearly. If only for a day or two I could afford to leave my estate, vacation there and stroll through the Heliotropic Glade, perhaps see you in person? Regretfully, a visit like that will have to wait another decade or two. I don't mean to tease you. Though I would be delighted to meet that spouse of yours, dear, the curiosity devours. It was such a shock to find your surname is Nallithe now! I hope you're blissfully content together, and your coupling is afforded eternity.

Now, I must confess, this missive is not altogether altruistic. Mournfully, I seek your advice for a terrible situation I can't begin to grasp. You were always better at plans and solving issues, my hand is more towards evoking spells until the problem either resolves or dies. But I can't take that tack with this one.  
To be polite, I will start from the last you've heard from me. It is not entirely necessary to my problem, but is only polite, as it's been so long. We've got a couple hundred years to cover, so, ready your wine glass and a good lounging couch, darling.

Let's start with my father, I'm sure you remember him. I don't know if you've seen him of late; you're an adult now with your own life, and your only interaction was filtered through our friendship. I'm sure there was gossip about it, so yes, we did have a disagreement. It wasn't an argument, there was no shouting, but he made me quite displeased and mildly cross for an evening. He was my father, I couldn't stay mad at him, but I just could not stand that leech he betrothed me to. That polished "prince" was a sham and a charlatan! We went on only one outing together, during which I caught him stealing the silverware! For no other reason than amusement, his family could buy mine so it stands to reason they had more than enough silverware. Surely, you can infer why there was no second outing.

And besides which, he was horribly dull. I was young, only just shy of 200 years old, I couldn't chain myself to someone for eternity to someone whose deepest interests involve the "history of economics". Evermeet is a perpetually prosperous state, there is no history to be had other than "rather good". The poor dullard could go on for hours about the topic, getting three out of every five facts completely incorrect as he went. Can you yet understand why I could not allow this engagement to go on any longer?

So, Father and I had disagreements over it. Not fights, fighting implies shouting and maybe throwing of silverware and slammed doors. The most we ever got up to was sharp words at the meal table, but no fighting. We would play it like a game of chess, moving in turns relative to each other; he would remark I should spend time with my bethrothed, I would remark that if my betrothed were my studies I gladly would, did my father want me to slack on my education? He would invite the cad over for courting, I would climb out my window on a rope made of my sheets. In fact, due to this tomfoolery, I learned how to make a rope of bedsheets in the first place. Looking back, even though I was around 200 years old, an adult by all rights, my actions were a tad on the immature side. Perhaps that was my father's intention all along? Not to marry the fool, but to find clever ways out of bad situations. It would be just like him to use my life and future for a teaching moment.  
Find a clever way out I did, in fact. On one occasion in which I had to flee my obligations to my betrothed, I met my dearest Pharainn. I had to take a shortcut through the vineyard just west of Hyellethril - do you remember? The one on the river Ardulith, in fact just down the stream from where we played in our youth. It just so happens that Pharainn's family owned that vineyard.

Perhaps it is true that Pharainn was below my station, a common winemaker and grape-grower rather than prestigious royalty as my betrothed was. Maybe it's tradition to marry up above your rank. But it is also a fact that I do not care for such things without moral character to serve as the backbone, without a kind heart that has known hardship and can sympathize, without a patient heart that takes its time to measure words. My betrothed had none of those; Pharainn, all of the above. Meeting him opened my eyes as well. I had been a fool, and selfish. It was not love at first sight like you hear in the fairy stories, but it was just about close enough to it.  
Whenever things got too much, or I had to escape, I would go and visit him. We quickly became close friends, and I began toying with plans of how to get out of my arranged marriage and marry this wineboy instead.

I spent more time with the Students of Law, making nice with them so they'd allow me to use their library. I studied betrothal, most importantly how to make it go away. As it turns out, there is a way to make it go away, not involving death of either party or a charming spell to get the other to agree to nullifying it. If anyone asks you, I never considered a charming spell. Not me, I would never.  
The way we had to do so involves this little detail; did you know that outside of the lands of the mists, on the solid planes, the laws of Evermeet can no longer be enforced? Unless it's in direct threat to the integrity of the Green Isle of the Feywild, there can be nothing done about it. As long as you remain in Faerûn, there's no reasonable excuse to break through the veil of planes to fetch the lawbreaker. And marriages are binding, through space and fate. So, saving up some money and packing lightly, Pharainn and I took a "trip" to Faerûn, and well wouldn't you imagine it we happened to get married there too! I had brought enough to procure us a fine little slice of land; nothing like Hyellethril but fine enough. We called it Rostmiruvor. I grew it with my own magic, and I continue to add to it to this day, little things here and there. And of course we have a vineyard of our own, I don't think Pharainn could continue to live if deprived of his ability to grow and distill grapes.

For quite a while, it was quiet. We didn't impose our rule on the surrounding villages and citizens, but this only drew them to us. We do our best to do right by them, keeping distant as this is a role we never asked for. We were far more concerned with producing an heir.  
It was... difficult. It appears that it is difficult for me to concieve, and when I do, harder still to carry to term. I thought at times it was a punishment from Corellon, for reneging on my promises and eloping to a foreign country. But I resigned that if it was, I would bear it, because I can't fathom to think of my fate had I stayed. That wasn't a life I was capable of living. It took us about 319 years into our marriage to finally bear a successful child. A little girl we named Drey.

Drey was an only child, after having her we decided to stop trying as it would only lead to more heartbreak. After so long trying to have a child, we focused so intently on that aspect that we were unprepared to actually raise her. We were in a foreign country, no family, and no sun-elves in the area to even think of asking. Even now, we do not have many 'family friends' to rely on here, it would have been bleak and lonely if Pharainn and I didn't have each other. I sent my father a letter about it, but his return was brief and only amounted to 'good luck'. And Drey was, strange. She wasn't easy to raise.

Not that I'm putting the blame on my own child for being difficult. As a parent you must deal with what the Gods give you. In fact, I believe it was entirely our own fault. To have a child after so long... we couldn't bear if she got hurt, or lost, or taken from us. So instead of encouraging friendship, we encouraged seclusion. She didn't have many friends; there was no Foundling Academy of course, so no school, she was tutored. Our maid absolutely adored her, though, perhaps to her weakness as young Nymyra would do anything for Drey.  
Drey would be 71 this year, which of course comes with that age's signature moods and difficult questions. Her father has been the most boggled by it, I try to pity him and explain but he can't understand it. She's either very quiet or very violent at any time. Or, was, I suppose.

This brings the backstory of this letter to a close as I finally confess what I require your help with. Drey has gone missing. Ran away, we believe. We've enlisted the kind help of the villagers in our area to look for her, but it seems all hide or hair of her has dissapeared. Morbidly, someone found what seems to be her long braid floating down the river, shorn off. When she left, one of our ornamental tridents was stolen, and enough supplies for about a fortnight in the wilderness. It has now been longer than a fortnight of her vanishment and I and my spouse are bereft. We tried for three centuries to have a child and once we had her, we lost her. What could she be doing? Is she safe? Is she alone, or has she fallen in with all sorts of unsavory characters?

I don't know what to do, Tian. I don't even know if you can help, but part of this letter's purpose was to merely speak my grief to someone, anyone else. Do you perhaps recall any Finding spells? Do you have contacts with any bounty hunters that might be kind enough to search for her? Could you please pass this information on to my father, or my siblings, that they might have an ability to help? I miss you so dearly, how I long to be telling you this in person and ask for you to drape those soft arms around me. The only other time I've been this despondent in my life was after my very first miscarriage, 350 years ago.

To end this letter on such a sad note doesn't sit well with me. I hope you do well, my dear. I hope your life is filled with happiness and peace and unending sunlight, and none of your children end up vanishing into the night. I hope Corellon smiles on you and you never have to fear drastic danger. I wish you well, and even if there is nothing you can do to help my plight, you write me back anyhow. Hearing from you, reading your handwriting, would do wonders for my sorrow. So please, write me back, tell me about how your life has been since graduation, alright?

Yours in mind,  
Laelorra Kal'Urin Pirya'mia  
Progenitor of House Pirya'mia, Celethril chila'Sermalta, Herunor Rostmiruvor


End file.
